


Her Shirt

by TrashBish13



Category: rufo the clown
Genre: F/M, Killer Clown, Smile No More - Freeform, horror clown, james a moore - Freeform, more love for rufo, rufo the clown - Freeform, slasher clown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashBish13/pseuds/TrashBish13
Summary: I wanted to do a ‘her shirt’ version to go with “His Shirt” so have Rufo stroking it.This is in Rufo’s perspective.
Relationships: Rufo/Female Reader
Kudos: 1





	Her Shirt

It always was saddening when I had to leave for another job but when the calls come, I gotta do what I promised for Albert. I always did what I could to keep myself busy to make the weeks fly by but sometimes time wanted to drag. Usually I did my best to keep busy even if it was just sitting in a car to scope things out or just wait for the right person to walk out of a building. However, sometimes there’s nothing to be done between waiting. Annoyingly, this was one of those moments.

I was held up in my hotel room until I heard back from Albert. Though, I wasn’t quite sure when that would be. Sure, I could have walked the town and explored a bit, but nothing had really caught my eye when I was out before. The reruns of some of my favorite shows weren’t helping me and I couldn’t help but think about my girl back home. The last visit had been wonderful and don’t tell her, but I was a little disappointed when Albert gave me a call. I had been looking to staying a little bit longer and getting more time between the two of us. Unfortunately, things don’t always work out the way we want them too. She sure made it memorable though.

In my duffel bag I brought with me a little souvenir. Just a little something to help take the edge off now and again for a short while until it wasn’t good anymore. I hadn’t pulled it out just yet, but this seemed like the perfect time to do so. It was a getting a little close to bedtime and just needed that extra push to get there. I took out of my bag a Ziploc bag that contained a red fabric. It had been a light blue originally but after our bit of last-minute fun it had taken on its new color. I laid back on the bed after taking the shirt out of the bag and held it in my hand. My other hand palmed my crotch where I could already feel myself stiffening as I brought the shirt up to my nose to take in its scent. It smelled of her and her perfume. Mostly it smelled of her blood but all the scents mixing together made it feel like she was right there. Well, mostly.

As my hand worked at getting my pants unbuttoned my mind went back to that last day with her. I had gotten the call and the look on her face when I said I had to leave was so pitiful. The way her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, mostly playful, but I knew she was sad knowing I would have to go. I remember the look on her face when I grabbed her chin and kissed her. Her eyes were wide. She learned quickly and that always brought a smile to my face. I smiled now as I tugged my pants and underwear now to free my already half hard cock. I could still hear the little squeak she made from when I grabbed her and carried her off into the bedroom. I remember how I laughed as I watched her bounce on the bed when I dropped her on it. My favorite part though was how her eyes lit up when I pulled a knife out. I don’t think they could get any bigger honestly. It had been a long time since I had put a knife to her skin, and I needed to make sure she had a few reminders of who she belonged to while I was gone.

Another deep inhale of the blood-stained shirt and it feels like the memory was just yesterday. My hand wrapped around my cock; pumping it in slow strokes and rubbing my thumb over the head with each pass. With my eyes closed it’s like I could see her there in front of me and hearing those soft whimpers of hers. Cutting away her clothes had been quick, and they had been left to the side in tatters. I knew she would complain later but in the moment she never cared. Though the way her body shuddered and quivered as I pressed the knife into her was what mattered. Watching the knife sink into her skin and watching her struggle not to move always gave me a rush. She desperately wanted to be good for me and the pain always made her soaking wet. I didn’t do anything too bad, just a few cuts here and there along with my name in a few new places. All in places that only she would see when she would get undressed and look down at herself she would remember. Her sheets were starting to turn red and that’s when I had used her cut up shirt to clean her up a little though to also take it with me later. But, of course, after I made sure she got what she needed in the end. Boy did she.

My strokes got faster while my head fell back onto the pillow; just letting the shirt lay on my face at that point. My now free hand grabbed and balled up in the pillow to hold onto something at least. I’d rather it was back in her hair to keep her pinned down to the bed. I remember looking down at her and seeing how the blood had smeared on the both of us amidst our fun. It was such a stark contrast to my white skin but the way it looked on her always drove me mad. She thrived in it just like I did. No matter what way I pinned her down she would always find a way to squirm to just get a bit more of an edge to what I was giving her even if I was making the bed creak. She didn’t need to speak to beg. She let her body do that. Like that look on her face that wouldn’t help me either. It was so pathetic. Pleading with those big eyes that were lost in the moment, glazed in a haze of lust along with a need I had never seen before. Sometimes I don’t even think she knew what she was begging for half the time, but I gave it either way. 

I could feel my balls tensing up and the muscles in my lower gut tightening to let me know I was getting closer. I’m a simple man with few wishes but if I could have one at that time I’d wish to have my cock buried back in her and feel her squeezing around me. Especially when I had her bent in half. Her walls would squeeze me and try to milk me dry as she went over and over again. It was always cute to feel her nails raking into my skin in a desperate attempt to ground herself each time. It was even cuter when she would see my face pulled back taught. That shriveled undead monstrous look always got her going. For her it was an odd mix of fear and arousal that she always got without fail but I wasn’t going to be a man who complained. It only got my blood pumping more to see that mixture on her face and to feel her heart pounded even harder. She always screamed louder I noticed the next few times she would cum and that was always a blessing to my ears.

With a few final strokes I finally came. A deep, guttural groan broke through all my grunts while my cock throbbed, and my hips jerked. Thick ropes hit my stomach and coated my hand just a little bit. My chest rose and fell with each huff as I was coming down from my rush of memory living. After I opened my eyes and I moved the shirt off my face. I didn’t take too long to shower and make sure I was cleaned up before getting back into bed for some actual rest. Before though I made sure to get the shirt back in its little Ziploc baggy. Though I made sure to give it a kiss. A part of me had hoped she could feel it regardless of what she was doing right now. I knew it was a silly thought, but a clown can dream. 


End file.
